


We're Messed Up. Obviously.

by Isaac_Potato



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: And it's basically the same in this story, Angst, Anxiety, Billy has anger issues, Bisexual Billy Hargrove, Bisexual Steve Harrington, But she's his counselor, Depression, Eating Disorders, Fluff, Forgive Me, Group Homes, He also has shorter hair, I gave the characters my issues and I feel so bad, Joyce isn't Jonathan's mother, M/M, Mental Health Issues, OCD, Outside characters, Steve never dated Nancy, au-modern era, because everyone ships it and i do too, because hes getting the help he needs, but he isnt a racist asshole, he's basically like Dacre except he's not because he's still Billy, just a nicer billy, side jopper
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-08 15:22:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12867435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isaac_Potato/pseuds/Isaac_Potato
Summary: Steve is suffering from a list of mental disorders. He goes to a group home as a last effort, and makes new friends who share all of his issues, including his very attractive roommate. He goes through a journey, with a spiritual counselor who believes in modern medicine, a security guard who pretends he doesn't care, and a nurse who secretly wants him and his roommate to get together. He just hopes this home works out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by To The Bone from Netflix and also some prompts I made up in class instead of learning geometry.

He had made the water in the bath a bit too hot. He could feel himself overheating, but remained in the tub, his knees pushed upwards to make room for his tall frame as he kept his head under the water. The water was a dark blue from the bath bomb he had stolen from his friend- She probably got it at Hot Topic, considering the color- and bubbles covered his entire body. He never understood why it was weird for boys to take baths like girls did, with the fizzes and the bubbles and the good smells. It was relaxing. And boy, did he need relaxing today.

Through the sound distortion from the water, he heard the sound of his mother banging on the bathroom door he had locked before he got in. He stayed under the water for one more second, reveling in the quietness, then he pulled himself up, the rush of water pouring off his face and hair and back into the tub below him making a large splash. 

“Steve? STEVE!” He heard his mother screaming for him. He sighed.

“Yeah, mom?” He answered back. 

“You filled that damn tub too high! You can’t fill it past the nozzle! It’s coming out of the ceiling downstairs!” And with that she stomped off. Steve drained some water out of the tub until it was below the nozzle that clogged the drain. He looked at the time on his phone that was sitting on a towel on the toilet. 10:30. He still had 6 hours. He went back under the water.

At 4:30 he would be arriving at his new “group home.” He had been to a lot of live-in homes, (5 to be exact.) but this one reminded him of more of a mental hospital than a home. His psychiatrist swears that it’s a home, though, it’s just big. He’s only seen pictures, but he’s pretty sure that even in pictures live-in homes still looked like… Houses. Or at least a little more forgiving than a large building with white walls. All he knows is that he’ll have a roommate and there’s only about 10-ish people in his group. His age range is 18 to 22. From what his psychiatrist says there are three other 18 year olds, one 19 year old, three 20 year olds, and two 22 year olds. Give or take. 

He’ll also needs to get a new psychiatrist. Or counselor, whatever she wants to call herself. Getting new people, (we’re going to call them that for the sake of not getting into the whole psychiatrist/therapist/counselor debacle.) is always annoying. They get the chart from the old one, but you still have to start all over, explaining to them that, yes, you do have issues and this is what they are and how they make me feel and what they make me do. He’s also heard that this Person has… interesting techniques. 

His parents have tried everything to make him better. Sending him to Person after Person, home after home, in hopes that someone will know how to fix him. He knew he had issues, but the list is a bit exaggerated in his opinion. It is, as follows: Panic disorder, severe anxiety, paranoia, depression, a mild form of OCD and an eating disorder. It’s pretty fun. He doesn’t think the OCD is a necessary thing to bring up, but his last Person told him that he should never leave out a diagnosis, no matter how insignificant it may seem to him. So that’s his list. He’s a cocktail that spells disaster. People say they’re shocked he hasn’t offed himself yet. (Not to his face, of course, but he hears them as he walks down the hall.) Honestly, he’s surprised himself. 

He probably would if it wasn’t for his mother. She’s hard on him sometimes, but between work and a son who can barely get out of bed in the morning, always being rushed to therapy, or to homes, or to hospitals, he can’t really blame her for being stressed. If he killed himself, that may just be her breaking point.

He lifts himself out again, takes a deep breath, then leans back against the tub wall that’s cold from not having heat on it. The music he had playing is louder now, not being obstructed by his mother’s yelling, or the water filling his ears. Merry Happy by Kate Nash is playing lowly. He lets the music distract him. 

He is not looking forward to 4:30.  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
With all of his bags shoved in the back of his mom’s car they started the drive to the home. Some random song was playing on the radio, something that was currently on the charts, but Steve couldn’t hear which one it was, as his mom was talking over the quiet music. 

“And, Steve, honey, I know you don’t like to, but I really want you to try at this one, okay? I need you to tell me that you’ll really try to get better.” She told him. She said the same thing every time he went to a new home, and he always said the same thing.

“Yeah, mom. I’ll try.” And she’ll always smile at him, hopeful. 

It makes Steve feel like shit. 

They pulled into the parking lot and Steve sighed. He looked at the time. They were 15 minutes early. He took out his phone and started opening random apps, trying to waste time. He looked back at the clock. 13 more minutes. 

He had a few nervous ticks. He used to twitch pretty bad, but that eventually faded out. He moves his hands and feet a lot, like he can’t keep them still for two seconds, moving his feet in circular motions and rapidly moving his hands. It’s weird. He knows. Checking the time was a big one. When his anxiety was high he’d always have to know what time it is. Even if he checked the clock every 2 minutes, he needed to know. He actually didn’t know whether it was a nervous tick or if it was that OCD thing. Whichever it was, he really needed to stop. 

10 more minutes. His mom got out of the car and opened the back, grabbing his suitcase and bringing it over to him. He didn’t need a suitcase, so he packed up a duffel bag. The patients all wore uniforms that looked like light grey scrubs. They were allowed to wear special clothes if needed though. Steve brought his sweatshirt. And stuff for his hair.

8 more minutes. Now he was panicking that they were going to be late. He grabbed the duffel bag and walked with his mom. (He now felt stupid about the bag, as he should have put his hair stuff in a smaller bag and then worn his sweatshirt. Too late now.) They got to the doors and opened them to reveal a woman sitting behind desk. There was a security officer flipping through a magazine type book next to the desk. He had a beard and a very disinterested look on his face. The lady at the front desk looked up and smiled. 

“You must be Steve Harrington.” She said and started typing on a computer. Steve nodded lightly. “Alright, you’re all checked in. Hopper here will take you to Joyce, your counselor.” Her smile was too bright to be real. 

“Alright,” His mom turned him to her, forcing him to look her in the eye. “Be good. Please. This is your last chance. I need you to be in this one. Please don’t get kicked out, or leave, or upset the nurses. Just… Be on your best behavior. I love you.” She said and hugged him.

Steve hugged back with one arm and whispered back, “I love you, too.” His mom pulled back and squeezed his arms. She smiled, then he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see the security guard. Hopper. He walked with Hopper to a hallway, looking back and seeing his mom wave at him. 

“Alright, Kid, welcome to the home. Do you know the rules?” Hopper asked.

Yes. “No.” He answered. “Uh, not really.” He said, after not thinking that “no” is not an appropriate response as it was too straight forward.

Hopper looked at him. Then started talking. “Well, they’re pretty simple. You have to stay a minimum of 6 weeks, unless told differently, but you can stay as long as you need after that. There’s a standard uniform, but if you have special clothes you can wear them. In addition, if you have special stuffed animals, or blankets, or foods, you’re allowed to have them. There’s only ten of you, there’s three other 18 year olds. You’ll all eat in the cafeteria, where there’s only one table. Bathrooms are locked for 30 minutes afterwards for the kids here with EDs. There’s four other age groups, 13 to 17 year olds, 23 to 28 year olds, 29 to 35 year olds and 36 and up. This section connects to all four of them, but you aren’t allowed to go into their sections. The only time sections mingle together is during rec time, which is outside, as long as it isn’t snowing, from 9AM to 8PM, but everyone has to be inside for meals. If you ever need anything, ask for V. She’s head nurse.” They stopped outside of a door that said Joyce on it, with flowers surrounding the name in bright colors. “I’ll also need to go through your bag. I’ll put it in your room, I just have to make sure there aren’t any sharp objects or pills.” 

“I don’t cut.” Steve said quickly. It’s true, he doesn’t, but Hopper is going to find the sandpaper tool he swears is for art, but when he’s in his bed at night he rubs it over his knuckles for a good five minutes. Or until it starts hurting. And Steve shouldn’t have packed it, really, but it was in his sweatshirt pocket. Nobody knows about it. Hopefully the art lie will work.

“Alright. I still have to make sure.” Hopper flashed a smile. A quick one. Steve handed over his bag. Hopper knocked on the door before opening it. “Joyce, new patient.” Hopper moved over so Steve could walk in. The office was kind of cluttered, but in a neat way. There were bright strips of cloth that looked like scarves draped in random places, and brightly colored orbs littered a shelf. He feels like he walked into a spiritual shop. Hopper closed the door, and now he was looking at his new counselor. Joyce. He hoped she wasn’t into some voodoo shit and was gonna do something to “cure him” that involved crystals and him swallowing flower petals or some crap like that. 

She smiled at him. He wished people would stop doing that. “Hi, Steve.” She said and motioned to a chair. He sat down. “Hopper explained the rules?” She asked. He nodded. “Alright. Well, you’re going to have a medical evaluation in a week or so. Just to know where you’re at. And you’ll have a mental evaluation in a few days. You take medication, right?” Good. No voodoo. Steve nodded. (He hadn’t swallowed a pill in months. He heard they can make you gain weight.) Joyce looked at him. “No, Steve. You’re prescribed medicine. Do you take it?” She asked. Steve stopped, looked Joyce in the eyes. She’d know. She knows the tricks of the patients. She won’t believe his bullshit like the other counselors he had would. He shook his head. 

“I’m not going to ask why. Things like that are boring, and I already know. You have an eating disorder. You won’t do anything if a side effect is gaining weight. Just know that the nurses monitor you. You don’t have to take the medicine if you really don’t want to, but they’re hardasses. Especially V. But she means well.” Joyce told him. There was a knock at the door. “Come in.” She called. The door opened. “That’s all I’m gonna talk about today, I’ll let you get situated. I want to see you tomorrow, though. At 10. After breakfast.” Steve nodded. “This is Billy, he’s gonna give you the tour.” 

Steve turned around, and his heart skipped a beat. “Billy” had short hair styled upwards and bright ass blue eyes. He gave Steve a side smile and his heart slowed. “Hey. You ready?” And that’s it. His heart stopped. 

Billy. Billy will be the death of him.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve walked out of the office with Billy. They walked in silence until they rounded a corner, where Billy stopped walking a turned to him. He gave him that same smile he gave him in the office and started talking. “Don’t believe Joyce’s facade that she’s a normal counselor who does normal things with her patients. She’s kinda batshit crazy. But she’s really nice.” He said, then turned to face the room. He held out his arms in a display sort of way. “This is the common room. We have rec time in here during the winter and you can come in here and hang out before and after rec time. They don’t make us stay in our rooms, we just aren’t allowed outside. We also meet here twice a day for bullcrap and banter.” Steve gave him a weird look. “It’s what we call our group therapy sessions.”

They continued walking, and Billy opened a door. Inside of it was a table with 12 or so chairs around it. “This is the torture chamber. It’s where we eat. More or less. It’s probably the only place you’ll see some of our fellow group members. Mainly Nancy and Jonathan. I’ll introduce you to them later. And, also, you don’t have to eat, but if you do, you get points.”

“What are points?” Steve asked.

“Points are things you get when you move closer to your goal. Like, if you eat over 700 calories when you typically eat 100. The bigger the step the more points it’s worth. The more points you have the more freedom you get. You get to go places. Outside of here. We just have to either wear the clothes we came with or they’ll give us some.” Billy said. They walked towards the door, but Billy stopped before turning the handle. “Oh, and, an unspoken rule of the cafeteria is, don’t mention the weird eating habits of the other members. You’ll see what I mean.” He opened the door and stepped through it to reveal another hallway, this one filled with six or seven doorless rooms, and rooms he assumed to be bathrooms. 

“These are our rooms. They took the doors off to keep an eye on us. Make sure we aren’t exercising, or punching things, or banging our heads on a wall.” He waved to a nurse, and then stopped outside of a room. There were two people, a girl and a guy, sitting on a bed, talking. Steve assumed they were Nancy and Jonathan. He was right. “Guys, this is Steve.” He introduced. Nancy and Jonathan waved at him. 

“What’re you in for?” Nancy asked.

Steve let out a small laugh. “How much time you got?” Jonathan smiled.

“I can give you an hour, but that’s all.” He said. Steve smiled and let out a small laugh, and then Billy said they had to go. Steve waved, and they left.

They walked to the end of the hall, then turned right. The hall was a little darker, and at the end there were large black double doors. “This hallway is a dead zone. Nobody comes back here. There’s a bathroom up a little further but nobody uses it. The nurses know it exists, though, so don’t try anything after meals. But if you ever want alone time, I’d suggest using it. And then those doors are the doors that connect us to the 13-17 kids. We aren’t even allowed near it. It’s only there so the nurses can walk in and out of it.” Billy slid down the wall, sitting on the floor. Steve followed, having nothing better to do. “So, why are you here?” Billy asked.

“Why are you?” Steve answered back. He really didn’t like telling people his problems.

Billy looked at his face for a second, then looked towards the floor. “Well, it’s kind of a whole big story. You see, I’m from California, and I always wanted to be an actor. Typical, I know. But I actually made it. Sort of. I wanted to lose weight. Bad. It’s all I ever thought about. I hated how I looked on camera, which was of course an issue. My friends all gave me diet plans, these bullshit vegan things they all did, but nothing was working. 

“Well, one friend said that on some days he’d fast, and then eat for a week or so. My dumbass listened to him, and the first day I fasted I lost ½ a pound. And then, it all spiraled out of control. I think I got down to 86 pounds when it became a problem. I was on set for some bullshit thing, when I passed out and had to be rushed to the hospital, where I got my first tube. The second I got out of the hospital, I started running, to burn off all of the food they had me eat, even though I really only gained 2 or 3 pounds. 

“I ended up back in the hospital and that was the first time I actually saw myself, like through other people’s eyes, and it scared the shit out of me. So, I moved out here, to get help far away from that fucking nightmare. And I have other issues, too. I have anger problems, which are getting better, because my dad being a real piece of shit wasn’t helping. But, now I’m here. I’m up to about 110 pounds, I think?” Billy finished. 

“Holy shit, how tall are you?” Steve asked.

“My BMI is lower than my age, if you need to know.” Billy told him.

“How long have you been here? Did that all happen when you were 15 or…?” Steve asked. Billy shook his head, and let out a huff of a laugh.

“You know, you still haven’t told me anything about you.” They were both silent. Billy sighed. “I’ve been here a year. And that all started when I just turned 16. I was in the 13-17 section for like, a month. And let me tell you, the kids over there are so fucked. It’s sad, but it’s true. I don’t think they understand life enough for it to have been so fucking bad to them.” Another silence fell over them, but Steve silently agreed. Those kids were barely through puberty and they’ve already had life fuck them over. 13 is far too young to have to be in a group home.

“I don’t really like telling people my issues.” Steve eventually said. Billy didn’t answer. They sat for a few more minutes, nurses occasionally moving past them, through the double doors.

“I’ll get something out of you, eventually. We are roommates, after all.” Billy smirked at him. Steve’s eyes widened. No way. No way was he that lucky. No way was the universe that nice to him. Billy stood up. “You gonna stay there shell-shocked, or are you gonna come see outside?” Billy said, and held his hand out for him. Steve took it and pulled himself up.   
What on Earth did he do to get Billy as a roommate? Something really fucking good, obviously.  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
It was pretty outside of the building. There was a forest beyond a gate that was far enough away that it wasn’t smothering. Steve could tell they really tried to make it so they didn’t feel like prisoners. It worked, but only to an extent. There was still the lingering thought that they couldn’t leave unless they acted a bit better than they currently were.

Billy walked up beside him and breathed in deeply. “Ah, smell that? That’s the smell of half freedom.” He walked him over to a bench and they sat down. There were benches everywhere along the gates and some tables and chairs, for playing games, he guessed. A lot of the oldest people were playing chess or cards at the tables, but there was this one group of about 6 kids surrounding a different table, two girls standing and four boys sitting. Their uniforms were a light purple, different from Steve’s age group that was a light baby blue. Billy looked at him as he stared at the kids, confused as to what they were doing. “They’re planning a Dungeons and Dragons tournament type thing.” Billy told him.

“What?” Steve asked, but it was more of a question of how he knew that. 

Billy sort of chuckled. “You see the really small kid with the light brown hair? Not the one with curly hair, the other one?” Billy asked. Steve nodded. “That’s Jonathan’s little brother. And the tall one with dark hair is Nancy’s younger brother.” Steve’s eyes sort of widened, but went back to normal a second after. It wasn’t very shocking that siblings were in here.

The kids were yelling at each other, not in a mad way, just in a way where they were trying to be heard over the others. People were starting to go inside, and Billy stood up. Steve followed and Billy said, “Bullcrap and banter.” And they went inside.  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
“Bullcrap and banter” was exactly that. It was him, and Billy, and Nancy and Jonathan, and their fellow patients. And the counselor. It wasn’t Joyce, Joyce did group therapy with the younger kids. It was a lady that went by the name “Christie.” A nurse stood in the corner. She had dark skin and looked like she could kill you by looking at you in the wrong way. “That’s V. She’s here to make us comfortable, so we’ll actually talk. She’s a sweetheart. A sassy bitch, but she’s still sweet.” Billy had told him as they sat down. Steve quickly realized that he didn’t have his sweatshirt. He crossed his arms to hide his stomach out of habit.

“Welcome, to our new member, Steve.” Christie said. The other “members” smiled at him uncomfortably. Of course they did. This is a room full of the most awkward people Joyce could find and they were just made to acknowledge another person. Steve would’ve been shocked if they even made a sound. “So in the afternoon all we do is go around and talk about our day. Our struggles, our achievements, and we give our numbers. It’s on a scale of one to ten, one being horrible and ten being fantastic. The morning is a bit more focused.” She smiled at him. It was happening again. Why do people insist on smiling at you when you have mental issues? Do they think it will cure you? That you’ll be happy suddenly?

“We’ll start over here,” Christie motioned to a scrawny girl next to her, who had her knees up and was curled into herself. “Can you tell us your number? And your name, so Steve can get to know you?” 

The girl swallowed. “Uh… Well, my name is Juliana, I’m 20, and my number is a 3. My struggle was that I had to get a tube this morning. And I feel all… Uncomfortable and weird and I don’t know how many calories are in that tube they gave me and I don’t know how to burn them off… I don’t know what to do.” She leaned back in the chair and blinked rapidly. Steve looked at a picture behind her, of the ocean. There are 1500 calories in those tubes usually. He wasn’t gonna tell her that.

“Mhm, and why do you think you feel that way.” Christie asked her.

She moved her hands to the arm rests and started to rub at them, uncomfortable, and probably trying to think of something to say that’ll get her out of this situation the fastest. “Because I have a problem.” She whispered out.

“In a way. But, to every problem, there’s a solution, right? And we can’t give up until we find that solution.” Christie spoke to everyone during that. Steve looked at a new painting. He couldn’t tell what it was. They moved to a 22 year old named Ashley who said she really just spent all day with Juliana so nothing major happened. Then a 22 year old named Isaac who said his struggle was that he didn’t gain any weight and he could feel the disapproval of the nurses and Joyce and that he knew it wasn’t losing but it still wasn’t gaining. Then a 20 year old named Kelsey who didn’t say anything after her number and there was a bit of a silence before Christie moved to a 20 year old named Tatyana who said her accomplishment was that she ate. Then it was Jonathan’s turn.

“I’m Jonathan, I’m 18, and my number is about a 3. But a high 3. I spent all day with Nancy, but I made her laugh.” He smiled and looked at her, and she smiled back but looked down right after. “So that’s an accomplishment.” He said, looking back at Christie. 

“I bet it is. Nancy?” She said.

“I’m Nancy, I’m 18, and I guess I’m a 3 too. And you already know my day so.” She said and then sunk down in her chair, grabbing Jonathan’s hand. 

Christie nodded towards Billy. “I’m Billy. I’m 18, I’m a Sagittarius and I like long walks on the beach.” V gave him a look from behind Christie’s chair, and he smiled before saying, “My number is a 5, because I got to bring Steve around and show him the home.” He looked at Steve, his eyes moving up and down his body and that stupid fucking smile still plastered on his face. 

“Alright, and Steve? How are you doing tonight?” Christie asked.

“Uh… I’m Steve… I’m 18, and I’m a… 2? I guess? And, a struggle, is being here. Or, I mean, just having to be here. Like adjusting to it.” He finished, and the smile was off of Billy’s face, but he was still looking at him.

“Well, maybe an accomplishment, is that you’re here.” Christie said and smiled again. Steve awkwardly smiled. 

After him was a 19 year old boy named Chris who didn’t really talk at all, and then it was dinner time. 

This will be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the worst writers block trying to write this I actually wanted death. (Also check out my Tumblr, isaac-potato I post some Stranger Things garbage.) This was a shitty chapter, I'm sorry. It'll get better.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think this came out the way you guys were hoping, I've been having a rough few weeks and I feel like I didn't do as good as I could've with this chapter.

Steve had always been, as his mother called him, a happy kid. His parents weren’t around much, but he always found a reason to smile. He was always athletic and had a lot of friends. When he got into high school he became popular, he was a star athlete and a pretty attractive kid. “King Steve” they called him. His reign as King lasted as long as halfway through his junior year.

Steve had always had anxiety and depression, but they were manageable. He could function in society. Then, something happened during winter break, out of nowhere, really. They got back from a vacation and Steve’s mental health took a nosedive. He couldn’t get out of bed, he couldn’t eat, he could only do a few things on his phone and sleep. 

After a week and a half of that, something in his brain snapped. (It happened after he was so weak from not eating, his 72 year old grandmother could open an already open jar of peanut butter, but he couldn’t.) He told his mom he wanted to go to therapy. Of course, his mom made sure right away she could find someone.

So, he went to therapy. He started to get better. He was able to hold a conversation in school. But, in March, everything went downhill again. Nothing was helping. His therapist was just annoying. He stopped eating, counted his calories, weighed himself every chance he got. He developed OCD. He went into his first group home.

He didn’t do very good in his first home. They didn’t help him very well, but it wasn’t his fault. They were just bad at what they did. So he went into a new one, with the same outcome. The third one, he gave up. He got kicked out of every one, except this one.

Speaking of this one.

Everyone was sitting down. Bowls of spaghetti and meatballs and bread were in the center of the table. Steve took a piece of bread and started ripping it apart, looking at the people around the table. They were talking to each other quietly, in pairs. He tried to see the weird eating habits Billy had mentioned.

Ah.

They were small. Probably from years of hiding them, making it hard to notice unless you’re paying attention. Ashley ate everything with a spoon. Everything. Isaac cut all of his food up into tiny pieces. Nancy ate everything with her hands. They were weird to anyone outside of this home. Weird to anyone who didn’t understand the inner turmoil of an eating disorder. Didn’t know the extremely weird things they made you do. 

Billy took a forkful of spaghetti and put it in his mouth. Steve stared at him. He liked watching people eat. According to his last therapist it was a projection of his eating disorder, he would watch people eat but not eat himself. It was also seeing other people with an eating disorder eat. He was honestly trying to get better. Billy looked over at him and swallowed his food. “See something you like?” He asked. 

Steve blushed but smiled, going back to his bread. Jonathan and Nancy moved over to sit in front of them. Steve and Billy smiled at them.

Four people with eating disorders talking over dinner would confuse most people, because they weren’t going to eat it, so why do it? But it was sort of freeing, not having people give you looks because you aren’t eating. Well, it would be freeing if not for the nurses.

“Jonathan, don’t just pick at the pasta, you gotta eat some of that meat, baby.” The nurse they called “V” said as she touched his shoulder. She looked across the table and locked eyes with Steve. “You too, Steve. Don’t just break that bread, you aren’t a bird and this isn’t church.” She stared at him until he grabbed the serving spoon and scooped some pasta onto his plate. Then she slowly moved away as he shoved a forkful into his mouth. Then he put down his fork and continued to eat bread. 

“I have enough points to go to the movies.” Jonathan said and Nancy kind of perked up, but didn’t make it noticeable. “And I know that someone else has enough points to go with me… So…” He glanced over at Nancy, but then quickly looked over to Billy. “Billy, will you go to the movies with me?” Jonathan asked, in a very sincere way.

Billy feigned shock, putting his hands over his chest and gasping. “Jonathan, I would be honored!” Nancy rolled her eyes and started to pick up more spaghetti. Jonathan chuckled and looked back to Nancy.

He kissed her cheek and she smiled lightly before trying her best to look pissed. “Nancy, what movie should we see?” Billy asked.

“Maybe Ghostbusters. I hear you star in it, your character is Slimer, right?” She said and Billy’s smile fell from his face.

“Wow, Nancy, I never thought you felt that way.” Billy said and went back to his food.

“What movie do you want to see?” Jonathan whispered to her, and Steve gave them their privacy. He wondered how long they had been dating. The way they were acting meant it couldn’t have been very long. It was cute, like puppy love, the way they got really close and whispered things nobody else could hear. He wondered what it took to love someone like that.

Steve’s never really had crushes, just people he admired a lot. He’s never “been in love” or felt butterflies around anyone. People tell him to be patient, that it’ll happen. He doesn’t believe that, because in all his 18 years of living, the only thing he can say about people is if he thinks they’re hot or not. He doesn’t understand people like he’s apparently supposed to. Doesn’t know what they like or what they do or how to figure that stuff out. He’s fine with being alone, though. And if it’s with a roommate like Billy, he’s perfectly content. Like he said, he can tell when people are hot.

There was a commotion that made Steve jolt from his thoughts. He saw V and Hopper running down a hall and through another set of big black double doors. “That’s the 29 to 34 year olds’ group.” Jonathan said. 

“What’s going on?” Steve asked.

“Well, if the nurses and Hopper go in there, it’s most likely a suicide attempt.” Nancy said, quietly.

“Which means we have about five more minutes to eat before we have to go to our rooms for a head count before the ambulance and cops get here. Suicide attempts or threats are an immediate 911.” Billy explained to Steve. The four looked at the doors until the nurses left started shuffling them towards their rooms. 

The other patients barely seemed bothered. Steve wondered to himself how often suicide attempts and threats happened. If they call 911 that means the patient got moved to a mental hospital. In his other group homes, suicide attempts were rare, not everyone was depressed or suicidal. Apparently it was going to be different here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only reason I put in the scene with Jonathan and Nancy and Billy and the movies was because my friends who are in this really cute relationship did the same thing with one of their friends and I almost died because they're really adorable and I love my friends so much.


End file.
